Gathering the Scattered Pieces
by Captain MeraSparrow
Summary: Followup to FWOL. "Jack Sparra' been shattered. Him been scattered 'cross de Realms." James and Amy must embark on a journey to find Jack and piece him back together. But darkness looms on the horizon. No pairings.
1. Teacher

Okay! After a brief reprieve (in which my cat had liver and kidney problems - don't worry, she's recovered!), the second installment of the revamp is finally beginning! Yayy! At the moment, what I hope to have done is got rid of some (but not all) of the useless filler (unless it was enjoyable filler), patched up some plot holes, and changed the interaction between characters to be not only more realistic, but truer to those characters (especially James, cuz he was all femenine and weak in the original. Insert grimace.)

Please continue to enjoy!

**Gathering the Scattered Pieces**

**Disclaimer: **

**Authoress:** Did no one come to read this _just_ because they missed me?

**Disney Officials:** -point guns and cutlasses-

**Authoress:** ...Oh...

**Chapter One: Teacher**

With a gasp, James opened his eyes, panting for breath. He was soaked, sitting in the muck, in a foggy, unfamiliar swamp. There was a shack off in the distance, built on stilts to escape floods that must be frequent. It looked nearly as if it were built into the trees, through which no light shone. Perhaps it was night. There were candles lit in the windows. Someone was definitely home.

With a sudden sting of worry, he realized the girl was not with him. "Amy?" He stumbled to his feet, looking this way and that. There was no response. He cupped his muddy hands to his mouth and called for her again. "AMY!" A thought entered his mind that she may be in danger, but he immediately dismissed it. As mysterious and strange as this place was, it felt safe. Then perhaps she was unconscious. It made sense after all: he had just been unconscious himself, as it were. So he began to look for tracks, footprints, any sign that some _thing_ had fallen from the sky. But the mud was loose and slimy, sucking at his feet and filling in his own footprints as soon as he made them. After some time, he came to an area clear of trees. A river. And there was something on the far bank. "Amy!" He hastened to the water. The river was narrow here, perhaps as wide as a jolly boat was long, black water flowing through it. If he jumped, neither bank would support him—for he could have jumped it if he tried—so he instead decided to take the plunge. Literally.

The water was ice against his skin, in sharp contrast with the hot and humid air. He swam to the other bank in few powerful, effortless strokes, and climbed out on the other side, shaking himself like a dog before approaching the unmoving form. There she was, sleeping peacefully. He hauled her out of the muck and onto his back, her arms and head draped over his shoulders, and began the trek toward the glowing shack in the distance.

After some time, the river opened out and shallowed, water low enough to wade through. There was a mist about its surface, but the light from the house shone through it. As he waded, James sensed with a jolt that they were being watched. He stopped and slowly looked to the left, and saw nearly invisible people watching them from the trees. Behind him was the same. And to the right. At first he was unnerved, but after a few moments of alarm, he acknowledged feeling they were watching over him and the lass. In fact, they must have been the ones who pulled Amy from her initial crater and from sinking into the mud, he mused. As grateful as he was for this, it did not make their stares any less creepy. He heaved his young companion up the ladder and to the tiny porch, and set her down as he paused for rest. (The girl was light, but so is a flute–holding either for a long time gets tiring.) He saw then the many similar houses which must have been inhabited by those ever-watchful people.

A few minutes later, wiping some of the dried mud from his face, he picked her back up, this time bridal style, and knocked on the door. It opened as if by its own will, and he peered in. The room was bathed in the light of several bright candles. Dozens of jars and other such containers hung from the rafters, which were frame to a thatched roof, filled with all sorts of things, from liquids to crabs' claws to...were those eyeballs? "Hello?" he called. "I don't mean to impose, but I was wondering if I might be directed to—." He broke off.

A woman had appeared, dark skinned, dreadlocked, and dressed in an old, elaborate, once beautiful gown. "Your direction," she drawled slowly in a gentle Creole accent, "is to go on straight for t'ree paces." She smiled, showing a mouth of silver teeth. She crossed the room, taking in the girl in his arms. "This is her?"

"Yes."

She chuckled softly. "That kind of travel is very tirin'. Her brought you bot' with her own will." He blinked. "There is a bed in the nex' room. Let her rest dere."

"Thank you."

"There is also boots. I believe they will suit ya bettah than the shoe ya have."

"Again, thank you." He set her down in the next room—gosh was she a heavy sleeper—and gently removed a slick strand of hair from her face in a gentle caress. "Rest up, pet," he murmured. "It tastes a lie to say this won't be an adventure." He stood and left to go properly meet this Tia Dalma.

"Ya care deeply for her," the woman said with a certain tone in her voice.

He smiled momentarily. "She's my only family, you could say." An albino anaconda slithered from the branch of a small tree growing through the window opposite them and out the empty frame. Preoccupied by its movement, he did not notice the mystic had approached him until her voice sounded at his shoulder.

"Then you must cherish her forever and always." She stood before him, hand rising as she scrutinized his face. "Dese scars," she reached up, tracing a deep tear track with a slender finger. "Dem by your hand, aren't dem?" He said nothing, merely blinked. "Why would you do that?" she asked softly, hands still inspecting said age-old wounds. A soft breeze through the open window ruffled the feathers woven into her hair.

He did not react to the touch aside from scowling. "I had to make myself look the proper age whilst in the Navy." He suddenly caught her hand and pushed it away. "Don't touch me."

"Ah," she smiled, "the Commodore is not comfortable in my home?"

"The fact that you _can_ touch me is a detail I had not been prepared for."

"Den he does not trust me."

"I don't know if I ever have," he replied on the defensive, before sighing apologetically. "I just...don't know what to expect. I would feel better knowing what we are up against."

"...And issues concerning him personal space."

"Fine, yes, I admit it." She laughed amiably. He dropped the scowl, but his face did not soften. "How...did you know they were scars?" he asked with sudden curiosity.

"I can see what others cannot." She led him to the table and invited him to sit, sitting herself opposite him. "Let m'see ya hand." And he did, in spite of his inner debate on whether or not this woman could be trusted.

—

Amy opened her eyes, taking in the room around her. "Don't remember inviting you," she greeted an albino anaconda which had moved on her stomach. It raised its head and looked her in the face. It was somewhat chilling, making eye contact with a snake. A blue forked tongue flicked out to inspect her, and said reptile slithered up past her head and out the window. _Dotdotdot,_ thought she to herself. She rose, yawning and stretching before venturing into the next room.

"Good morning to you," she said to James upon seeing him, as he sat at the table, cleaning out the dirt under his nails with a dull dirk.

"With bright yellow cobras," he finished the thought.

"Anacondas, actually," she grinned. "I see we made it safely to Tia Dalma's."

"Yes."

"How long have I been out?"

"All night. Madam Dalma informed me that you used your 'abilities' to get us both here, and exhausted yourself."

"You've met her?"

"Mm-hmm," he bobbed his head.

"Where is she?"

"She left some time ago; she did not say where, nor when she might be returning." He didn't sound like he approved.

"Oh."

"In the meantime, you really may want to wash up. We landed in mud when we arrived, and my dear, you're filthy."

She looked herself up and down. "...Oh..." He tried to hide his smirk as he went back to his nails. "Thanks." She stepped outside onto the small porch, the smell of plantlife and humidity hitting her like a wall. It was nice. She didn't get much of that in the suburbs where she lived. Sunlight streamed down between the leaves of the trees in rays of light, turning the dark swamp into a dense jungle. She took a deep breath of the warm air and took a swim in the shallow water, letting said water do all the work of cleaning while she herself had a little fun.

An otter, surely not indigenous to these parts, swam up playfully. Without another thought, the two were chasing one another in an energetic game of tag. After a while, the creature dove under the water. Moments later, it popped back up and squeaked at her before repeating the action. "I'm sorry," she said softly to it as it popped back up, this time nearer. "I can't swim under water very well." It blinked and nudged her playfully. "Maybe someday, when I either teach myself to swim better or make it possible for me to breathe under water, I'll be able to follow you." It blinked at her, then swam away. Ames heard the creak of a door opening and closing, as well as the clunk of boots on wood, and looked up to see James. He looked different now, naval jacket stained once more with mud, boots instead of shoes, hair growing longer and bushier—and beard growing back in. He nearly looked a pirate again. "Am I sufficiently clean yet?"

"Nearly." He descended into the water. "But you missed a spot right...here!" He splashed her.

"Oy!" she sputtered, shaking the water from her eyes and splashing him back. A splash war ensued, and a while later, the two heaved themselves onto a surprisingly solid bank, laughing. It was good not to be worrying about Jack for the time being. She sat up with a sigh, and he followed suit. "...That was fun."

"Aye."

"I wonder what we're going to be doing when she gets back," she said suddenly.

James' shoulders stiffened slightly, as if he had been hoping that she wouldn't be thinking about the problems they would have to deal with, and he shook his head. "Who can tell with that woman? It looks like we will just have to wait and see."

"How long do you suppose we'll have to wait?"

"Shorter dan you t'ink," came a voice. They looked up to see Tia Dalma floating past in a boat—which seemed to be leading itself. She motioned for them to follow her back to the shack. "Come. Details are important t'ings, an' dey must be discussed." Her boat continued on its way.

Ames and James exchanged uncertain expressions before the latter stood and hauled the former to her feet. "Go on then."

"Nice try, Navy-boy, you're coming with."

Once inside, perhaps by intuition, the lass went straight to the divination table. The voodoo priestess looked up from the crab claws she had been reading and smiled. "Welcome youn' maiden."

Amy bowed respectfully. "It is an honour to meet you," she said politely, hoping James would be proud of her courtesy and overlook her lack of curtsy.

"I assume you have questions before we begin."

"You assume correctly." Amy took a seat at the table across from her in a manner similar to Will's when he had presented the 'drawring of a key'. "Why me? Why now?"

"De forces that have grant you such power have chosen you based on de contents of your subconscious an' heart." Ames blinked. "As for 'now', what is ya age?"

"Fifteen." Her voice had taken on Jack's accent once more.

"Magic is unpredictable and wild, but consistent. De powers normally show demselves when the sorcerer reaches de age of sixteen..." She shifted in her seat. "Sometimes, somet'ing set dem off early. What have you been meddling wid?"

Amy thought for a moment. "The only freaky things I experienced magic-wise were related to Jack being a horse. That must be it. I could communicate with Jack through our minds, and from there, I was able to communicate with you and James. That must be it. It's like a door was opened that I didn't realize I could step through until now."

"And what about this war? Why would the sorcerers and other such magicians be gathering together to fight?"

"It is the fight for life. There are people would use their magic to destroy all life as we know it."

"But who would want any of that? I mean, if they destroy life, they'll be destroyed too!"

"Normally, that would be true—"

"Normally?"

"—but magics unlike anyt'in' in our realms is afoot. Dey want power. De force dat separates de Realms is powerful. If they can find out how t' harness it, then dey will take it for themselves, away from those that need and use it. As result, they will live...an' all else is oblivion when de Realms collide."

"In all the realms, eh?" the girl asked at length.

"Most. Some realms has no magic at all. Others are completely dedicated to harnessing de power — or fighting dem dat want it."

"That's a lot of magic."

"Yes."

"To what point and purpose do they desire that power? It would all be useless if there is nowhere to use it."

Tia looked cackled. "Children often see t'ings good or bad, black or white," gesturing between herself and James. "But dere is no such t'ing as evil. Ev'ry bad t'ing come of dose trying to attain a greater good. It is de way dey go about it dat makes it such an evil thing. Dese magicians want to end all suffering. Dey want to make deir own worlds and create deir own life where dere will be no suffering."

"But that completely ignores the point of life," James interceded. "You don't know what happiness is if you don't have unhappiness to compare it with."

Tia's eyes gleamed at him. "Dere is strong opposition all over. Even if deir goals are idealist, it is too high a price to pay, and de risk of corruption all too real. And in order for bot' sides to meet on a single battle field, reality must twist. Realms will merge wid' one another, and de world order will be thrown inta chaos."

"And what does this all have to do with Jack? I mean, I assume that what happened to him is obviously the work of some magic," the girl went on without missing a beat.

"You assume correctly. Him been mistaken for de Guardian of our Realm."

Ames raised an eyebrow. "Guardian?"

"Yes. This side o' de war, fighting to defend life, has great advantage: dere are beings which are responsible for defending de Realms to which dey belong. They possess much strength and power."

"How could they have mistaken him for something like that?"

"A Guardian can neva be fully human. Because Jack Sparrow serve as link between several worlds, an' can become a horse, him been mistaken for this Realm's Guardian."

"Then who did it to him?—Or—You know what, why don't we just cut to the chase and you tell us what we can do."

"For Jack, him emotions been manifested into living beings. Find 'em, and bring dem here. Once we have them all, we will find de way to merge 'em back together."

"Then how do we find these 'manifestations'?"

Tia smiled. "That is where your magic come in. You shall learn with me how t' use it ta find him."

"I see how it is," she sighed. "I've got to master these 'powers' to help him."

"Not master. Not quite. T'ink of it like a test. When you are deemed ready, it shall be test of your knowledge an' control."

"As in, a test of my mast'ry over sorcery."

"Per'aps."

She sighed again. "So I've got to master these 'powers' to help him," she repeated.

Tia Dalma smiled gently. "Come. De sooner you learn, sooner you can begin." Ames blinked away her worry and nodded. She had to be ready as soon as possible. She had to help Jack before something happened.

And so, the learning began.

* * *

Ah, so it's finally begun! I hope my thoughts were less erratic than in the original!

Please leave a review!


	2. Love and Pride

Sorry for the delay in updates! But I'm back now, so enjoy!

**Chapter Two:** **Love and Pride**

Days passed. It was morning now, the sun's early rays filtering gently through the trees. James sat on a bank, fishing with a makeshift rod. A small pile of them was already growing at his side. There was a short tug on the line, and he was about to pull it in when he saw something very odd: a familiar-looking horse was wading through the shallows toward Tia Dalma's shack. Needless to say, the fish got away.

—

"Focus, chil'," Tia hissed. "Focus is what you need in order ta control ya magic." Amy nodded, taking a deep breath, trying to levitate a few crab claws at the table piled high with books on alchemy, witchcraft, and sorcery.

There was a loud thud outside. Focus broken, Amy followed her mentor to the porch. They looked down, and there was Jack-the-horse. "Jack!" The lass flew down the ladder and threw herself at the horse, who surprisingly did not spook.

"Him only a horse—dere is no humanity within him."

Amy froze, and for a moment looked as though she might cry. "Oh... How did he know to come here?"

"This animal embodies him wisdom, among other t'ings. So him wise enough ta know to come here."

She fingered his ragged mane. "O...kay. Well, one down. That leaves only...how many more?"

"Six. A Shattering always make seven bodies. And dey will not come of dem own accord, so _you_ must find them... Which you cannot do unless ya learn ya basics!"

Amy scowled irritatedly at the woman and raised her hand in a snap, palm down, fingers stretched as if reaching for something. Moments later, a handful of crab claws came floating out in a line and spun around her mentor in a small whirlwind before floating back through the door.

"Well done by you, but ya mus' not be spiteful. It will lead to ya downfall."

Amy nodded with a hum and a nonchalant shrug. "So, wisdom among other things, eh?" she stroked the equine's face. "What, praytell, are the 'other things'?"

"Well..." Tia descended down the ladder, pieces of her dress waving in the gentle breeze. The stallion pricked his ears at her and nickered warmly. "Him friendliness, for one..." He bobbed his head, lifting his lip and making a face. Amy laughed. "And him certainly likable, and that is Jack's charm."

"Oh; our equine prince charming." The horse nudged her affectionately.

"Yes d'ere is one more." The lass looked up. "Dis horse manifests Jack Sparrow's love."

"But I thought you said he was broken down into his most basic traits and emotions. Neither love nor wisdom can be considered 'basic', so how come they're both in there?"

"De Shattering is limited t' seven manifestashuns. Combinashuns cannot be avoided wid a man as complicated as witty Jack."

"Okay, I think I understand." A thought struck the lass. "What are we going to do with him?"

"Mister Norrington." James, who had been present but silent, looked up—Amy startled, having not noticed him. "Would you lead dis horse to de next island over an' leave him at the Azil an Sekirite Plantation? Dem will know how ta care for him until we have need of him again."

"Fine." He handed Amy the string of fish—which she promptly made a face at, not being the biggest fish fan. "Where can I find a boat with which to take him?"

"D'ere is no boat." James started. "You will ride him there."

"Ride—?"

"He can swim, and him smart enough ta understand human speech, so you will direct him with ya voice. Him follow you once ashore, if you don' wan' ta ride him no more."

"All—right." He still looked disconcerted, lacking horse sense and experience. "And...how am I to get back?"

"De owner of the plantation give you a boat, will be returned him when we come back fetch de horse.

"And if the beast tires?" Amy blinked away an annoyed expression at the word 'beast'.

Tia gave him a praising look and strode back into her shack. Todd idly spun a pair of claws round one another in mid air as sounds of clinking and grinding came from inside. James patted the horse tentatively on the neck, and it turned its elegant head to him to sniff him and blow a breath in his face. The man made a face, and Amy chuckled. "Horse breath. You get used to it."

"Must I?"

"Yes!"

Tia Dalma returned a few minutes later with a bunch of powder and ground herbs cupped in her hands. "Him eat this; give him strength for de journey."

"He can't eat it like that; he'll inhale half of it!" the lass cried. In her mind, strings wove notes around one another as she made twisting and swirling motions. Everything was bunched into small bars. Treats. Keeping them airborne, she swept one hand up, water rising with the movement, and added it to the mixture so it would stick together. The finished product was a handful of bite-sized treats, which fell neatly into James' hands.

"Good form. You are a fast learner. Ya focus and doubt are all that really need work at the moment."

"Fingers straight, Ellie," Ames advised her nephew as the horse received the treats from his palm. "No doubt then that those are what we shall be giving our attention to the most in coming days, aye?" she turned back to Tia Dalma, who nodded.

"De horse is ready," her mentor announced. She set a stool on the river floor for him to use as a mounting block. "Azil an Sekirite Plantation."

"Azil an Sekirite Plantation. I've got it." He mounted, somewhat clumsily.

"Oh, and James," the lass added, "when you get there, could you find Gibbs and the others and tell them what has happened, please?" He nodded. "They're staying at some tavern near the shore."

"I'll be sure to remember to," he said graciously, and she could tell he wasn't looking forward to dealing with pirates again. He gave his mount an inexperienced squeeze to the sides, and they were off.

"Boy is he gonna be sore..."

"Yes. Now, let us return to ya learnin'."

—

More days passed, and the lass was really getting the hang of the basics. It was all still hard to believe, but at least now it was believable at all.

"See you in a bit," the lass saluted, and vanished in a puff of mist. Realm travel had been one of her studies here. She had learned that there was a way of travel that did not require truest desire—it did not take nearly as much energy, and it worked wonderfully for frequent travel. A few minutes later, she reappeared in the same place, with a can of root beer. She had nipped to her own world and back. She opened the can with a hiss, and chugged its contents, releasing a rather unladylike belch that earned her a rather affronted glare from her nephew. "The nectar of the gods!" she cried dramatically.

Tia was looking thoroughly satisfied, perhaps even amused. "You have made sufficient progresss for now. Return to ya own Realm an' check in wid' ya family and friends."

"And...what of James?"

"I shall stay and help Miss Dalma until your return in a few days' time."

"Oh, okay. I'll see you, then." And with that, she vanished in another puff of mist. But she had not gone home. A small side trip was in order, and now she had entered a world many of us have frequently imagined: the world of Harry Potter. She found herself in the white Hospital Wing, well into the third book.

She slunk forward, moving swiftly and silently, and hid behind a cot where she had a clear view of the events that were unfolding. "...five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck," Dumbledore was saying to Harry and Hermione. They were putting something around their necks... She squinted at it, humming a tiny tune to herself, and waved her hand in a careful arc. The very same item appeared in her hand. A simple duplication. The other children disappeared into their time stream.

"Mission accomplished," she muttered to herself, holding up the hourglass. But before she could properly examine it, a sharp feeling hit her. Chocolate eyes blazed in her mind. "Jack!"

Dumbledore left the room. "Well done. I think—yes, I think you've gone too—get inside—I'll lock you in," she heard him saying.

In walked Harry and Hermione. They scooted back into their beds, whispering excitedly to one another about what had just happened to them. Ames found herself eavesdropping—it was a bad habit, she knew, but it was often quite useful. "A second hippogriff," Hermione chattered.

"I didn't know Hagrid had another one. I thought he had gotten rid of them all after the accident with Buckbeak."

This tidbit sparked her interest. "He went trotting off into the Forbidden Forest. I hope he doesn't get caught and mistaken for Buckbeak."

_Oh snap_, the stranger thought to herself. _If something happens to him, we might not be able to bring Jack back!_ She rose. "What way did it go?"

The two looked up. Poor Ron, as confused as he was, decided to stop caring and instead tried to go to sleep. "Who are you?"

"No one of consequence," she replied calmly in an effortless British accent.

"And what do you want with Hagrid's hippogriff?" Hermione asked.

"Hagrid's a friend of mine. He asked me to smuggle a pair of hippogriffs out earlier this evening, but I was attacked by a tree along the way. They mistook me for a student and took me here for healing..."

Potter and Granger exchanged bewildered expressions, but nodded to one another. "He flew off toward the Forbidden Forest."

Amy put her hands together, prayer-like, and bowed. "Much obliged." Her tendencies to act like Jack whenever speaking with an English accent were rather conspicuous, and James would have scoffed — but the children seemed to buy the act. She strolled to a window to locate the forest. There, that big shadow in the night. Quite suddenly, she threw herself out of the open window. Her divination and logic told her this was Jack's pride and vanity she was dealing with. Hippogriffs were known as the proudest of magical creatures, after all, and something about not wanting their feathers ruffled must mean they were somewhat superficial as well. She rode the exhilaration of the free fall for a few moments, music playing wildly in her mind, before waving a hand. A boom appeared in her grasp, with which she leaned up and flew to safety.

She could conjure one or two things decently, duplicate pretty well, and teleport a little. However, she had yet to discover her element. Every sorcerer or sorceress had an element upon which everything they were able to do was based. For instance, some could only do things related to time—requiring much creativity—while others used fire or the moon or ice, and so on. There had been no clues thus far as to what Amy's might be.

She flew on in the direction she had been pointed. Soon, she was over the trees of the Forest, whose canopy was so dense that she could not make out what lay within. She descended, and as soon as her feet touched the ground, the broom disappeared. She hadn't made anything yet that would exist. Everything she made she had to maintain the form of, and as soon as she stopped, they ceased to be. She slunk into the dark woods, following only the faint tug on her mind that was the very strong presence of Jack. Other than that, she hadn't the faintest idea as to where she was or where she was going.

An hour and a half later, as she was despairing of finding either the hippogriff or her way out—and beginning to wonder if this was Jack at all—she came upon an open clearing, a small pond at its center, moonlight shining brightly through a gap in the trees. There, a magnificent creature was standing on the bank. She crept silently closer. It had the front and wings of a giant, silver eagle, and the hindquarters and tail of a dapple gray horse, and it was...admiring its reflection in the water? "Yup, definitely vanity," she muttered with a sigh and a roll of the eyes. She rose slowly and whistled, approaching. The magnificent beast fixed its gaze on her in the form of a glare, puffing out its feathers and pawing the ground once she crossed an invisible line and she stopped in her tracks, bowing low, eyes never leaving his, and did not straighten until the hippogriff returned the gesture several long moments later. She approached confidently though cautiously and hoisted herself onto his back. He protested, reacting viciously, but they were already disappearing in a cloud of steam.

* * *

Well, that's two down. But the others won't be nearly as easy, as you will no doubt discover as you continue to read. Updates are inspired by reviews, so please do so!

~CMS


	3. It's Pink

Ah! An update already!

**Chapter Three: If It's Pink, It's Wrong**

Amy opened the eyes she had not recalled closing and saw that they were now back in the bayou. She dismounted and the hippogriff ruffled his feathers. "Your reputation would sink to the bottom of the briney blue if you did anything to try to hurt me," she warned him as he was about to attack. It seemed to think this over before lowering its talons back, with disdain, to the mud.

"Amy?" she heard James ask in astonishment.

She looked up, and sure enough, they were near Tia's shack. "Oy! Thought I'd drop by for a visit," she called in Jack's voice with a wave.

"Dear, what are you doing here?" He hurried over, ignorant of the hippogriff's growing agitation when he did not stop to bow. It raised a foot to strike as he drew within range.

"James, no!" She jmped to tackle him out of the way, but a foot caught in the mud threw her off balance. She clumsily face-planted into the muck, and James was left to take the full blow of the creature's talons. With luck and some superb reflexes, James managed to dart just nearly out of range, and thus the blow was much less serious than it should have been.

"James!" Amy struggled to her feet, shaking the sticky mud from her limbs and darting to his side. He caught her with trembling hands and they both sank to the ground in shock. "Let me see," she ordered. She met his gaze, his eyes green with the excitement, with her own frightened brown ones and, after moment's hesitation, recognized the resentment at her tone and removed her hands from his arms. No matter how much she wanted to help, she could not make him do as he was told. His will was far too strong and, after all, she was half his age; only a child. He gently peeled away the torn clothing to examine himself. "Oh no," she trembled as she saw all the blood.

"They're superficial," he assured her curtly. He hated fuss, especially fussy women. "They're not deep. Hardly broken the skin." He closed his shirt. "Now what were you thinking, bringing something like that here? You could have been hurt yourself — or at least given me a warning!"

"Usually people stop moving closer when an animal starts acting all agitated!"

Rage flared in his eyes and he raised a hand as though to hit her, and though she flinched, he merely brought his hand to massage the bridge of his nose. "Animal illiterate, remember? Unless it's a cat, I have no idea what's going on."

She nodded cautiously. "Sorry. Where'd the hippogriff go?"

"Is that what that thing was? It's admiring itself in the water."

"Jack's pride and vanity," she managed to sound as though nothing had happened.

"So that's why you brought it here. Why didn't you wait or speak with Teacher instead? That thing is dangerous." They had come to referring to her mentor affectionately as Teacher.

"There was no time. He was in danger of being mistaken for another hippogriff went missing that had a death sentence to be carried out a wee bit prior to the time at which I arrived."

"I see." They helped each other to stand.

"We'll have to lead him to Tia Dalma." A thought suddenly struck her. "If you want to be able to handle him, you need to bow."

"Bow?" his eyebrows came together.

"They're very proud creatures, hippogriffs. They can measure a person's worth by looking at him. You need to bow to him, and if he bows back you can approach. If not...well, just hope he does."

"So it's like a ritual."

"Basically."

"Then tell me what to do. You're the one who understands animals."

She rolled her eyes. "You act like I can talk to them. I just read body language. You're the strange one who doesn't pay attention to that stuff."

"I stopped watching body language after the second brothel I—oh this is a pointless tangent. Just tell me what to do."

Grinning, she obliged. "First off, approach him slowly and make sure he knows you're there." James took careful steps toward the beast, whistling and clapping to catch Pride's attention. "Okay, now you bow," she instructed when he drew near enough. "That's it, nice and low." The hippogriff ruffled its feathers and snapped its beak, obviously recognizing him at that disrespectful brute who'd so rudely encroached on his personal space not long ago. "Back off a little bit!" Ellie complied, maintaining his bow. After considering him for a few moments, the beast returned the gesture. Amy sighed with relief. "Good. Now, you have to walk around flapping your arms and poking your nose like a chicken."

He straightened slowly and was about to obey, then instead turned to face her, an odd expression on his face. "Now you're just joking with me."

"Yes."

"Well...now what?"

"You can get close to him now. Maybe lead him."

"All right." He took off a sash around his waist and looped it round the creature's neck. The three began the walk back. James was now lost in his thoughts. "You were nearly hysterical when it hit me."

"Well, for the record, I thought it was way worse than it was, but...it was also my fault you got hurt."

"What?"

"I mean, you didn't know the consequences of approaching a hippogriff, and who's to blame you? It wouldn't have been right for you to be 'punished' for something you weren't even aware of!"

James blinked. "Still, the wounds were shallow enough, ergo you don't have to blame yourself."

She raised a contrary finger. "It's both of our fault and neither of our fault."

"Well..."

"Look, I can't stay here for long. I can only travel so far back in time."

James startled. "What?"

She pulled out the hourglass. "If I turn it too many times, I'll lose count. A week and a half is a lot of hours and a lot of turns."

"When did you get this?" he asked, inspecting the object.

"From that place I just went to. It was lucky I popped up when I did, or I wouldn't have known about Jack," she added as an afterthought. They stopped walking, having reached the shack. "I'll be back 'tomorrow,'" she animated her speech with 'air-quotes.' She took a deep breath, placing the hourglass's string round her neck, hands poised to begin turning it when James caught one and pulled it away.

"I don't think you should."

"What?"

"At least not yet, dear. We don't know that it's safe."

"You mean that you don't think I duplicated it right?"

"You made this?" She nodded. He nodded back. "You've only been at this for little more than a week."

"You don't think I can do it," she said sullenly.

"Right." Gee, way to console a girl, James. "At least not yet. When you've had more experience, I'll trust your abilities, but right now you are as inept with your gift as I am on the back of a horse." He cocked his head with the ghost of a smile. "Besides...it's pink."

"WHAT?" Ames yanked the hourglass from her neck and looked at it, aghast. "Good call, Ellie. If it's pink and it's not in nature, then it must be wrong. Oh well, we'll try next time." She suddenly groaned. "I have over a week's worth of school to make up! I guess I'll be back next _week_."

"Then I'll see you then." He released his grip on the hippogriff's lead with one hand and extended his arm for a goodbye hug. There was the rattle of chains as he moved, and the girl caught his wrist, looking at it funny.

"James, you jingle." He blinked. She pushed back his sleeve to reveal the long-forgotten handcuff, broken chain links clinking softly as they fell free from his cuff. He momentarily dropped the lead, giving the hippogriff a warning look, and pushed up his other sleeve to reveal the other handcuff.

"We, ah, never found a way to get them off," he explained softly.

"Oh." She blinked as an image momentarily appeared before her of a pair of smooth, dark, feminine hands examining pale, calloused, male ones over a familiar wooden table. "...Ask Teacher. ...I'm...sure she'll know what to do."

He gave her an examining look. "Are you all right, pet?"

"Just a little homesick," she said quickly. "Warn everyone who needs to know about how to approach this guy. He'll like you more with compliments about him." She accepted his muchaforementioned hug—boy did he give great bear hugs—and stretched up on her tip-toes to peck him familiarly on the cheek. "See ya, love ya, bye, moo!" she rambled, mist beginning to swirl around her, form beginning to fade.

"Moo," he replied with a curt wave and a small smile.

And she disappeared.

When Ames was next able to see, she was sinking into the half-foot of slush, cold seeping into her toes. The thaw had come. Birds sang and flitted about in the rays of sunlight filtering down through the empty branches of the gargantuan maple trees in her backyard. She smiled as she looked around, then checked her watch (which she had been forgetful enough not to remove). It read: Monday, late morning. Good, plenty of time for her to check her school's internet database and begin catching up on her work. A plan was already forming in her head that she could take everything in moderation by week; school for a week, Caribbean for the next, et cetera. Ah well. Now she would have to explain to her parents that she had magical powers and had to learn to use them as quickly as possible so that she could save Jack—sorry, _Captain_ Jack Sparrow from fading out of existence.

She stepped onto her deck and strode to the back door, picking up the small turtle statuette and holding it upside down so she could retrieve the key hidden in its secret compartment, and unlocked the door. She replaced the key and turtle and strode inside, silently closing the door and slipping upstairs to change out of her pirate gear. It felt almost unfamiliar to be wearing 'normal' clothes, after such a long time, but at the same time, it felt nice.

She checked in with her father, merely giving him a wave, for he was in the middle of some important teleconference, then went straight to her laptop to catch up on her studies. It was so tempting to check her e-mails and sign on to instant messaging, but all of her friends were at school, anyway. She continued for hours, only stopping for food and a good scolding from her parents when her mother returned from work. Suddenly gripped with uncertainty, she decided to refrain from telling them about her magic, but told everything else in truth.

They understood the importance of her mission, never doubting its truth, given the victim's history—and their daughter's previous adventures. And they couldn't really blame her for leaving without warning—both had seen the note, and it had explained that she hadn't known _when_ she would be back. And they saw how much work she had already gotten done. Knowing her procrastination problem and selective attention span as well as they did, she had really gotten a lot done. All her Honors Algebra and Trigonometry bookwork was done, most of her English Vocab and Grammar had been completed, and she had studied everything she had missed so that she could pass that Chemistry test she had missed. Tomorrow, she would retrieve everything needed to continue catching up, but for tonight, they would stay up late trying to come up with a decent excuse for missing out on school every other week.

And yet, through all her excitement at being back—and the cat was happier too, having missed her human—and her focus on schoolwork—which was beginning to give her a headache—there was something that never left the back of her mind. In the vision she had seen of Tia's and James' hands, there had been no handcuffs to speak of. Such tender and gentle touch had passed between them. She imagined the low, soft rumble of James' voice and the quiet ebb and flow of Teacher's in reply as they perhaps had some deep and heartfelt conversation.

Without really understanding why, she sensed that any relationship deeper than what already existed would end badly. But she pushed it out of her mind. The two didn't even seem like they had grown any closer than when they had first met—they still called each other Mister and Miss, for crying out loud—and here she was, assuming there was something growing between them! She mentally berated herself and blamed an overactive maternal instinct for doing...whatever it was doing.

Right now she needed sleep, so she would have the strength to deal with all the questions that were sure to bombard her the next day.

* * *

Not the best place to end a chapter, but it was the best place I could find; the next chapter is the last before we move on to the next installment.

Please leave a review! It's very disheartening as a writer not to receive any feedback, although I am consoled by the number of hits this story has gotten...


	4. Brief Normality

To anyone who's ever heard of A Very Potter Musical, A Very Potter Sequel is set for release tomorrow night on YouTube. For anyone who's never heard of it: go and watch it and bask in its amazingness.

I'll admit that I was a little put out by the complete lack of reviews received for this story, and I hope that will change soon - but I am very happy to see the number of hits being paid to the prequels as a result of the new layout, as well as the favourites and alerts being added.

Even if it turns out that no one is reading this, I've had rather enough of it, and I want this story to finally finish like it should, but that doesn't mean I don't want feedback - compliments, criticisms, I'm not picky.

**Disclaimer: If I'm on this site, it's obviously not mine.**

**Chapter Four:** **Brief Normality**

Countless voices converged to become a single buzz. Amy sighed as she strode across the parking lot, asphalt wet as the snow melted in the quickly-rising heat. How was she going to pull this off? At least in excuse for last week, her parents had written a note saying she'd come down with the flu. But what about all the other times she wouldn't be here? Wouldn't they be just a tad bit suspicious if she was out with the flu every other week?

School.

She took the steps two at a time and wandered to a corner between a brick wall and the windows bordering the cafeteria, and set down her pack, sitting and mindlessly fingering the golden puzzle piece that hung from her neck. That was the other thing—how was she going to concentrate on school when she was busy worrying about Jack?

"Todd!" a voice broke her out of her thoughts.

She looked up to see her best friend rushing forth to greet her. "Jimmy!" She rose and they proceeded to poke each other with a short exchange of meows.

"Where have you been? You've been gone fore like two weeks!"

"One week and two weekends," she corrected in a Jack-like fashion.

Jess (for indeed that was her non-drag name) facepalmed, rolling her eyes at her friend. "Yeah, but what happened? You could've at least called or something!"

"Well it was kind of short notice, and where I went doesn't get phone service. I'm really sorry—if I had known when I was going, I would have told you."

"Oh, okay," Jess replied amicably. "What were you doing, anyway?"

Amy thought a moment. She had to word this just right. "...Helping a friend."

"With what?"

"He's dying," she replied with sullen bluntness.

"Oh!" Her best friend hugged her.

"But there is something can be done that might get him better, and that's what I come into the picture."

"Aww." Jess patted Amy's head. "I hope he'll be okay."

"Me too." She sighed, then suddenly perked up. "So, getting off a disappointing subject, where is everybody?" Jimmy shrugged. "Liz?"

"She was feeling kinda homicidal yesterday, so I think she's staying home today."

"Oh. Hope she feels better. What about other-Amy?" The name was too common!

"With Tom."

Stupid boyfriends. Ames frowned, muttering something mutinously about a 'deserter'. "And Rosie?"

"I dunno. I think she went to Sweden."

"Already? Ahh! So it's just us then!" She conjured an imaginary Keyblade, leaning into a fighting stance. "Wanna work on that cosplay?"

"Amy, there are people here."

The young pirate's eyebrow rose. "So?"

"Wow, can't beat that logic!" They grinned. "I just don't feel like it today."

"Oh, okay. Maybe when I see Hilary she and I can do something. You want in?"

"We'll see." So instead, they quoted their favourite YouTube skits until the bell rang. Unfortunately, though, they had no classes together. Time before and between few certain periods were all they had. ...And any time outside of school, but it was rare if it was ever in person—they lived so far away from each other—so it was nearly always in Instant Messaging. Occasionally—very occasionally—by phone, in which case the bills would skyrocket when conversations lasted about three hours.

Classes went, and there were the incessant questions about her absence that bombarded her the whole day and irked her to no end. As she was walking home, nearly suffocating under the huge number of books and papers she had to bring back in order to catch up on the rest of her work, she already missed the Caribbean. But school! She'd already missed so much of it during her original haphazard adventures, and she was _still_ making up some of the work from _then_! Then a thought hit her. What about the weekends?

—

"No. Absolutely not," her mother rebuked upon hearing the suggestion.

"Why not?"

"You'll be missing church."

"Would you rather I miss school?"

"That's not what I said." She glared at her daughter, who only blinked and crossed her arms, knowing her mother so well that she knew the look was insincere. "But I want you to go to church."

"I'm secure in my faith, Mom," the girl assured her. "And you'll miss me less when it's only the weekends."

"And what about us-time?" her mother put on a playful pout, sticking out her lower lip.

Ames smiled and hugged her. "Just as soon as I get done making up everything that this debate is keeping me from."

"Oh all right. In that case, no T.V. or laptop unless your homework requires it." They released one another.

"Foin," she sulked maturely. Her mother laughed. "So yeah, I was thinking that if I left after dinner on Friday nights, we would have enough time as a family to share our adventures, and _I_ would likewise have more time in a weekend to try to help Jack."

Mom considered her. Her plan _did_ make sense... (of course it did! it always did!) ... "Look at you, making your own decisions like this. You're so grown up!"

She patted her mother on the head. "Yeah, I know" she said modestly. "I gotta go get the rest of my work done. See you in about..." She paused to count on her fingers. "...ten hours. Oh, and dinner. Dinner's good too." Her mother chuckling, she left for an afternoon of boredom.

—

Amy presented her idea to Tia Dalma later that week, and the Voodoo Priestess agreed that it seemed like a sound plan. So, the week went by, and Friday came round once again. Amy led Pongo to the mounting block and swung easily into his familiar saddle. She had been a little late in arriving as her weekend homework had taken her longer than expected to complete—so now she didn't have to worry about boring her behind off waiting for the less experienced riders to saddle up and mount. She swung her leg onto her horse's shoulder and pulled up the flap to adjust the girth, simultaneously giving him a nudge to get going. Adjusting her stirrups, she squeezed him into a trot and joined the lesson.

Jumping was different today. It was deemed warm enough for the horses to jump outside again. Only the most advanced riders, though, for the ring was larger, with more room for error, more eager horses (especially since it was cold) and higher jumps. Thus, only Amy and one other rider were given that privilege, instructed to take a short trail ride while their trainer jumped the young'uns inside. "I'm excited," Amy murmured as they walked down the road. One of Pongo's ears twitched to catch her voice. "It's been so long since we rode outside. I mean the last time I did, it was last summer, remember? And that was my first time."

"Yeah," the younger Molly grinned. "That was funny. You lost both your stirrups."

Amy smirked ruefully. "At least now we know I have a decent monkey grip," she laughed. They turned off the road and onto a gravel drive that led between two crop fields to the crop-and-dairy farm next door.

"You wanna trot?" the young blonde asked.

"When don't I?"

"Good point." And with that, they nudged their horses into a trot and posted to the halfway point before slowing, turning around, and walking back. "Which course do you think Ms Carrol will make us do?"

"I dunno." They threw possible courses at one another, listing jumps and numbers and positions that, like Naval terms, were an impenetrable code to outside ears.

Even though she knew the courses like the back of her hand, it was strange to be jumping outdoors again, and with the cold numbing her fingers and stiffening her joints, Amy found herself wishing to be back in the warmth of the Caribbean, even if it meant not being on the back of a horse. When the time came, Ames steered her faithful steed to the rail and nudged him into a canter. He picked up the correct lead, though he was usually very finicky about this and seemed to prefer the other. She steered him around the corner and to their first jump, giving him a confident squeeze. About three strides away, his strides became curt and bouncier, as if asking 'Are you ready? Are you ready?' and they sailed over the first fence, and six strides to the next.

They rounded the outer ring without any major problems, and steered toward the tighter inner ring, wherein said steed lengthened his stride. _One, two, one, two, _she counted the rhythm in her head. They sailed over the final jump, and she pulled him up to a stop, giving him a pat on the neck. "G'boy. Not bad for me being so rusty, hey?"

Dinner seemed to fly by, and after a quick shower, a change back into pirate gear, and a thorough goodbye, she was off.

Her judgement left much to be desired, however, for when she appeared in the swamp, instead of appearing on solid ground or near the shack, she fell another ten feet to the sucking mud which closed around her. Hands stuck in the mud, she could not wave the stuff away magically. _Hmm,_ she thought irrelevantly. _Gonna hafta work on this later... _She squirmed and tried to kick out, but to no avail. She was stuck. "Oh, darnit..." Footsteps on the soggy ground reached her ears, and she looked up. An unfamiliar armored figure was approaching, and in the deceiving dimness of twilight as the sun set, she could not make out its face. "Who's there?" The figure continued closer without answer until, as the shadows deepened, it stood before her. It was a man, she could tell, but that was all. He bent over her and, taking hold of her upper-arms, hauled her out of the muck. "Hey thanks, mate, I appreci—whoa!" she cried out as the man abruptly began to drag her by the arm off in one direction. "You know, you could at least wait until I've finished thanking you before you start dragging me off... Who are you anyway?" Dimly she was beginning to think she'd been kidnaped.

The mystery man didn't answer, and with a sigh, Amy had to follow. After a few silent minutes, they reached firmer ground. There, the stranger reached into a small pack slung over one shoulder on his back and pulled out a flintlock and what looked like a small club. "Whoa, what's that for?" He didn't answer. He instead pointed the pistol sideways and held it to the bulbous end of the club. The gears in her mind began to turn as she started to recognize the action, and she jumped in surprise as the firearm discharged. The flintlock sparked and lit what was actually not a weapon, but a torch. The flames flared, then settled, casting a flickering light on the face of her 'rescuer.' "Oh god, James!" she yelled, a hand over her heart. "You seriously scared me!"

He looked at her in nonchalant concern. "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "I am now. Thanks for getting me un-mucked."

"I wouldn't have had to if you weren't this far out."

"Far out?" It was true. She looked around and saw not a shack in sight. She couldn't even hear the gurgle of the river. "I had a good time riding and I think my mind was still on it when I was coming."

James scoffed. "Teacher was right—your focus does need honing."

She looked him up and down. "What are you wearing, anyway?"

He rolled his eyes. "And attention span." She ignored the comment, circling him observantly. He was in fact wearing some leather sort of armor, which looked to be crudely made, though reliable. Strapped to various parts of his body were layers and layers of leather plating, all held together by a membranous, skintight suit that looked like it didn't breathe. His boots had changed to a tighter and thinner material, and instead of looking tough and piratical, looked almost dainty. His waist was circled by two belts, which were loaded with his weaponry and including a second sword she hadn't seen before. When she stared a moment, taking in the whole get-up, he snapped his fingers in front of her, and she saw he wore fingerless, padded gloves. "Mouth hanging open, love." His hair was longer and bushier, too, and his beard groomed and well-kempt.

She shut it, grinning wickedly. "Got a new fetish, James?"

"If only it were that simple," came his usual growl.

"Er...do I even want to know?"

"_I_ do not even know its purpose," he replied curtly.

"Huh?"

"It was Teacher's idea. She had someone make it. When I asked, all she said was that I'd be needing it."

"So what are you doing out here then?"

"What does it look like? I was taking a hike to try and learn how to _move_ in this wretched outfit, and I heard you make an impromptu landing. Now come along, let's get back and get you cleaned up."

She sighed and followed him, wondering why on Earth Teacher wanted him in armor like this. After perhaps a mile, they reached the shack.

"Ya took longer in coming dan I'd hoped." They looked up to see Tia waiting for them on the porch.

"Well my, uh, estimation was a bit off and..."

"Her mind was adrift," James explained. "She landed about a mile out and managed to get herself stuck in the mud."

"Ya mus' learn focus, chil'!"

"I know. And I wasn't. And I should have. And I will."

"Good. Clean up quickly—we mus' make up for los' time."

She obeyed, Norrington hanging effortlessly from the ladder as he kept an eye on her. "I'm not going anywhere, you know," she said, her back to him, still feeling his gaze as she splashed water over herself.

"I know, but..." He faltered. What, James? What do you need to say? "I missed you."

"You don't deal with this kind of stuff very well, do you?"

He shrugged, sliding into the water. "It's just...it's so quiet when you're not here. There's a certain chaos that accompanies you wherever you go, and somehow its absence seems to turn the world on its end."

"I wasn't gone that long, James." She had her back to him, and could not see his face. "Jeez, what did you do after I left the first time?"

"I thought I'd never see you again after that. I didn't mind. In the Navy, friends part company all the time because they have been assigned to different vessels. But knowing you'd come back — that made it all the more difficult to wait."

—

Later, a now-clean Amy and an armored James sat at the table across from Tia Dalma. A pile of crustacean pincers sat before the mystic. "We will use dese claws ta find another form of Jack. Choose which."

Ames thought a moment. "How about Jack's laugh?" James' eyebrows rose. "What? We could use some laughter."

Teacher nodded, cupping the crab claws into her hands and giving them a shake as she closed her eyes. She murmured an incantation or somesuch in a language foreign to both sets of ears, and the claws dropped to the table in one big clump. Amy sat and inspected them. It would be hard to tell where they pointed depending on which world they were in.

Based on the markings carved into the table, they would be able to discern the position of that world in relation to their own, but without an accurate map of the Realms, that seemed nearly impossible. They would have to go by what they recognized, and hope that the world was correct.

Minutes passed and James came around beside the lass, setting a gloved hand gently on her shoulder. "See anything you recognize, pet?"

"Nmmh..." She pointed to a shape made in the claws. "I know this. It's a rock structure I've seen before."

"Do you know where it is?"

"I think I know the place fairly well, provided it is the correct world."

"How can we be sure?"

"We can't. The only way to know is to go there and find out."

"All right then. Let's be off."

"Now hang on a minute. It's a place with dangers the likes of which you've never seen."

"Same with your cooking." She shot him a withering look.

"I don't want you going."

"What, you want to go _alone_?"

She wilted a little. As introverted as she was, she did not want to face something new by herself. However, she remained staunch in her position. "You heard me. I'm serious."

"If it's as dangerous as you say, then there is no way I am letting you go alone. And there is nothing you can do to stop me coming." There was a long pause as she registered and accepted his decision. "Where is this place, anyway?"

"Kingdom Hearts."

* * *

And so concludes this installment. The next should be out in a week or so. Please take the time to review on your way out. Thank you for reading!


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